


Snow Angel

by artistfire13



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, extreme fluff, save yourselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistfire13/pseuds/artistfire13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Year's is a time for new beginnings. Newt was perfectly content with his new beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is an one am drabble I did with this ship newmas because holy shit I can't deal. Please ignore me, I can't really just, did I mention it's one am. If it's incoherent, I'm sorry. Ignore my nonsense :( Enjoy my sickly fluff anyways.

“I told you to bring a shucking scarf, greenie.” Newt’s disapproving tone certainly didn’t help with Thomas’ current predicament. “Or at least a hat. I’m hurting just bloody looking at your ears.  
“Yeah, well,” he sighed helplessly, with no heat as he brought his ice cold hands to his even colder ears.  
They were walking, much to Newt’s disgruntled discomfort but he pretended that his limp wasn’t hurting him. If walking meant spending time with Thomas, then so be it, but he still would never admit it out loud, especially not to Thomas. It was just about fifteen minutes before New Year’s and they had decided that they didn’t want to be in the utter chaos their friends’ made inside when the clock struck twelve; fearing for their own well-being. The snow was blanketed on the sidewalks of New York City. Minho didn’t live anywhere near Times Square but there were many people milling around, chattering everywhere. It was a cloudy night, no snow falling yet but it wasn’t unlikely. Lights twinkled from everywhere, and when Newt let his eyes wander, they always found their way to how they made Thomas’s eyes twinkle.  
It made him want to cry.  
He had accepted he would never have Thomas, his very obviously straight best friend since the time he moved to America when he was ten, but it still hurt like a bitch.  
‘At least he’s still your friend,’ Newt thought bitterly.  
Out loud, he heaved a deep sarcastic breath like it caused him extreme inconvenience. He unwrapped the scarlet scarf he had around his own neck and before Thomas could get a word in, he stopped them both and quickly wound it around his neck, knotting it masterfully with a look of concentration gracing his features and letting his hands rest on Thomas’s shoulders a moment too long before he reluctantly pulled away from him. He started walk again, Thomas quickly following him.  
“Thanks,” Thomas finally said after a stunned pause of silence.  
Newt hummed in recognition, deep in thought, willing his eyes and thoughts to fall anywhere but the cold, pale, chapped lips that could do with some warming up.  
“You were doing that face again,” Thomas stated nonchalantly, though the concern was apparent in his expression.  
“Hmm?” Newt hummed again, pretending he hadn’t heard Thomas. He took the hint.  
Sighing and disappointed for some reason, Thomas looked away from him for a moment. They weren’t walking anywhere in specific but Newt realized from their surroundings they had been unconsciously been drawn to a quiet area away from the buildings and trash of the city. He was thinking of how the place would be in the winter when Thomas took a deep breath like he was steeling himself then slipped his hand into Newt’s without any warning. Newt jumped and his hand slipped out as he jerked his head back, his heart stopping, to Thomas, who was watching him with a carefully blank expression, vulnerable in every which way. His face broke as his hand fell uselessly to his side, and wow, if that didn’t break Newt’s resolve, he didn’t know what did. Hesitantly, he kept his eyes down, blushing, screaming at himself, to take the chance, he threw himself out for you what else do you want. Take it dammit. Take him.  
Newt tugged at Thomas’s hand again and laced their cold fingers together again, this time squeezed him in reassurance and hope and years of pining, willing him to understand. He couldn’t look up or directly at Thomas, afraid and suddenly shy as he smiled at the ground, his blonde hair looking like a halo, but he peeked out. And by the sudden grin of pure joy on Thomas’s face, the blush that became deeper, a blush that couldn’t be excused by just the cold, the squeeze back, and Newt knew, Newt knew, that he understood.  
“This is why you dragged me outside, wasn’t it,” Newt finally broke the loud, embarrassed, glowing silence, still giddy as they continued walking because holy shit, he was holding Thomas’s hand. His ice cold hand warmed under Newt’s.  
“Well, they do get awfully rowdy,” Thomas laughed. They stopped at the overlook away from all the buildings. It was dark, dirty, and at some point it had started to snow. Newt could see their breaths in the air which of course made him look at Thomas’s lips. Thomas noticed, but probably because he was doing the same.  
“You know, they say whatever you find yourself doing on New Year’s, you’ll end up doing it for the rest of year,” Thomas breathed, not looking away from him.  
“Yeah?” Newt barely replied, dimly aware they were getting closer and closer, “well, I don’t find a single shucking problem with that.”  
They didn’t even bother counting down because when the cheers roared throughout the city as the clock struck midnight, they were already kissing.


End file.
